


The One Thing (I Got Right)

by dumdumbrendon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Service Dogs, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, Steve and Nat are a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:57:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumdumbrendon/pseuds/dumdumbrendon
Summary: They’d moved to Capitol Hill a few months back, after the Avengers compound became too tight and stuffy, too many bodies milling around. They’d decided on a brownstone that was painted a deep navy, right between 7th and 8th street. Sure it was small, but it had great lighting and a balcony that they could lounge around on. They’d had to redo the floors after Steve had made a comment about them looking like old floors from the forties, but the new dark hardwood was nice. Take that Steve.





	The One Thing (I Got Right)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this little work of domestic fluff. Please let me know what you think! You can find me over on softbbastian on tumblr!

Most days it’s in the background, like a low volumed television. He can feel it but it’s not on the forefront of his mind. Only when he’s left alone does it really come up. Some days it’s the only thing that matters.

Bucky’s cold. It seeps into his bones the second he wakes up next to Sam, blankets ruffled around them. He can feel the weight of Casper, their dog, and really, Bucky’s service dog, at the bottom of their bed. It’s a Tuesday, but Sam has off from the VA -they both just got back from a mission in Texas not 24 hours prior.

Shifting into the warmth of his boyfriend, he uses his stump to help him move. Sam makes a sleepy noise, smacking his lips before turning over. Bucky manages to get close enough to be the big spoon, his hair messy and long behind him. His flesh fingers feel frozen, cold in a way they shouldn’t be. His mind flashes back to the tank, to darkness and cold voices, stings in the inside of his elbows, electric shocks. Screwing his eyes shut, Bucky tries to think about positive things.

Sam. Casper. Steve. Nat. Books and warm tea with honey. _Sunshine_. Suddenly there’s no sunshine and everything is cold again. His toes move to be under Sam’s thigh and a shiver tears through his body. He wishes he weren’t so weak, weren’t so fucked up thanks to cryo. Wishes won’t do him any good, he reminds himself.

It’s another twelve minutes of wallowing before Sam flips back over, eyes barely open. Bucky feels his heart speed up and he leans closer so he can give the man a kiss, soft and tender.

“Mornin’ sexy,” Sam rumbles, low and sleepy. Bucky rolls his eyes fondly. God, where did Sam even get off, saying stuff like that? Had he seen himself?

“Morning doll,” Bucky says back, soft and sweet. His fingers still feel cold and Sam must know how cold he is just by looking at him because the man sits up and stretches, old tattoos showing off, and then he picks up a blanket that must have fallen during the night and lays it over them both. Bucky always worries Sam gets hot, but if he does, he doesn’t say anything.

“We have the day off. Want to walk to the Eastern Market? Get some pancakes or fruit?”

They’d moved to Capitol Hill a few months back, after the Avengers compound became too tight and stuffy, too many bodies milling around. They’d decided on a brownstone that was painted a deep navy, right between 7th and 8th street. Sure it was small, but it had great lighting and a balcony that they could lounge around on. They’d had to redo the floors after Steve had made a comment about them looking like old floors from the forties, but the new dark hardwood was nice. Take _that_ Steve.

There’s a large built in bookcase next to the fireplace that houses all of Sam’s books he’s collected through college and after, as well as some of the paperback books Bucky’s found in the local used bookstore, all sci-fi and far off fiction.

Because of where the place is located, it’s a perfect walking distance to the Eastern Market, a place they visit almost every day, when able. Bucky leans more towards fresh food instead of processed crap that makes his stomach turn. Sam likes watching Bucky handle the apples and oranges, deciding which to pick, likes watching him bargain with the sellers. He also loves watching the ex-assasin buy flowers from local vendor on the weekends, handing daisies out to children he sees or vets on the street.

“Mm, pancakes sound nice. We can get Casper a new bone to chew,” Bucky decides, nodding. The white dogs head pops up when he hears his name, eyes bright and nose sniffing the air to see if any food is being made.

“Yeah yeah pal, we’re talkin’ bout you. We’ll feed you in a sec.”

Casper seems to understand and lays his head back down, little paws stretching before getting comfortable again. Sam lets out a content sigh. God he loved his life.

“Come on, let’s get up. If Steve knew we were still in bed at nine he’d ever let us hear the end of it,” Sam says finally, after another few minutes of silent cuddling. Bucky huffs but sits up as well, long sleeve shirt rumpled and face soft from sleep. Sam leans over and gives him a kiss before standing and padding down the hall, sweatpants pooling low on his hips. Bucky watches the whole time he’s able to before Sam disappears into the kitchen to get Casper some food.

Steve lives a few blocks east, close enough to not miss him but far enough it still feels like they’re not on top of eachother. Steve lives with Nat, and Bucky can’t help but wonder if there’s something more between them. He’s seen the way Steve blushes when Nat’s just gotten back from yoga and she’s got her low tank top on and her hairs piled on her head. Bucky can’t blame him though. She’s more beautiful than any other girl he’s ever seen.

Getting up fully, Bucky lets his feet hit the wood floor, and he grimaces, quickly going to their dresser to find some socks. Washington DC in January is no joke. Why couldn’t they have moved to Florida?

Rubbing his eyes, Bucky choses the striped socks Sam had bought him a few months back and slips them on, wiggling his toes in satisfaction. Casper’s already moving towards the kitchen when he hears Sam pouring kibble into his little stainless steel bowl. The dog is spoiled beyond belief. Steve tends to bring some kind of bone or toy or treat over almost every time he visits, and Nat got him a new leash a few weeks ago that has little ghosts on it. _Spoiled_.

By the time it’s nearing ten, both men are dressed and ready to head out. Sam’s got his jeans and thermal on, his black leather jacket and a beanie that Bucky had said went well with his eyes. It’s a deep green, and brings out the tiny flecks in Sam’s chocolate brown eyes. Bucky has on his jeans and flannel, along with a denim jacket. Sam calls this his ‘hipster’ outfit, but Bucky pointedly ignores the jab. If he’s got another chance at living a nice life, he’s sure as hell not going to do it looking like _Steve_ , with his chinos and white tee shirts. No. He’s going to be fashionable. Even Nat has said she likes his look.

Caspar is waiting excitedly at the door while Sam puts his red vest on that clearly shows he’s a service dog and says in big black letters ‘DO NOT TOUCH - ON DUTY’. They clip his new leash to the harness and soon they’re out the door, Bucky letting Sam hold his leash so he’s able to hold the man’s other hand. T’Challa had offered to give him a new arm, and he’d taken up the offer, but under one condition- it had to be able to be removable. The king had made sure it was the very best, but more often than not, Bucky chose to keep it off. Even with light metal and plastic, it still pulled sharply on his shoulder that had never fully healed, and Bucky would rather deal with being one armed rather than being in pain.

As they walk, Sam swings their hands. It’s bitingly cold outside, but there’s no snow on the ground and it’s sunny, which makes Bucky a little lighter instantly. Capitol Hill is nice and calm this morning, not much going on. Sam’s grateful. Bucky won’t let on, but he knows his guy had a nightmare hours earlier and thanks whatever higher being there is that there’s not sirens or screaming kids out.

They walk barely two blocks south and they’re at the market. It’s a bit busier but with mostly mothers whose kids are in class or business men waiting on cups of coffee. Casper stays vigilant as they walk through the open spaces. Bucky stops in front of the produce tables and ends up carrying a small bag of winter squash around.

“I can make us some soup tonight. We could invite Steve and Nat?” Bucky suggests as they make their way to the booth that has a griddle hooked up, and Sam orders them both pancakes, with strawberries for Bucky and blueberries for himself. He looks over to where Bucky has found them a table off to the side, in front of a large window. Casper’s lying at his feet.

Sam thanks the kind woman, leaving a five dollar bill in the tip jar before retreating over to the table. Bucky’s grabbed them two bottles of OJ and some cutlery and napkins.

“I think that sounds great, by the way,” Sam smiles as he cuts up Bucky’s pancakes and then his own. “The whole soup thing, asking Nat and Steve.”

They eat and talk about the people they see walking around, making up ridiculous stories about what their lives could be like. Sam busts out into a fit of laughter after a particular idea.

“She’s got a sugar daddy on the side, but no one knows. Her boyfriend works at a cable company and she’s embarrassed to show him off,” Bucky decides, grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot when Sam dissolves into giggles.

\--------------------------

It’s a few nights later and they’re ordering some pizza from Matchbox, one of their favorite local places.

“Are you _sure_ you want them to come over tonight? You know Steve’s gonna be….” Sam trails off, gesturing with his hands. Bucky looks up from where he’s feeding Casper.

Sam had gotten home around three from work to find Bucky asleep on the couch. Not unusual, but not entirely common, especially now, after having come so far. He still had his bad days, but they were farther and fewer between. Sam had assumed it was one of those days but then Bucky had woken up and given a few coughs and his cheeks had taken on a slightly flushed hue.

“I’m fine. It’s a cold at most. I’m probably just worn down,” Bucky assures. Sam knows he’s right. It’s probably just a cold, but it doesn’t make him worry any less. Especially when he hears his guy give a few stuffy sounding sneezes into the crook of his arm.

“ _Bless_ you. You want some meds? Might help,” Sam offers, walking over to run a hand through Bucky’s hair. Buck slumps forward slightly, resting his face against the man’s sweater.

“Nah. Just a cold. Besides, they make me sleepy, and I’d like to not see what Nat does if I fall asleep while she’s talking.”

That makes Sam snort and relent, rubbing Bucky’s back a little before straightening when there’s a knock on the door. Bucky moves to make sure there’s something good playing low on the television and Sam lets Steve and Natasha in. Steve’s hair is getting longer, making him even more like a golden retriever. Nat’s dyed her hair back red and she’s in yoga pants and an old t-shirt of Steve’s. Interesting.

Bucky smiles when he see’s them, walking over for hugs.

“Your hair looks great ‘Talia,” Bucky murmurs as they embrace. It’s only been a few days since they saw each other last, but it’s nice, hugging people, feeling human. Normal.

After Sam and Steve break apart, Bucky’s laughing as the wind gets knocked out of him under Steve’s crushing hug. He ruffles the blonds hair and mutters a ‘punk’ but it’s fond and reminiscent of the good old days.

Steve sets down the pack of beers they’ve brought and frowns slightly when he see’s Bucky move aside to muffle a few sniffles and then a sneeze into his sweater, tugging a tissue to his face to clean himself up.

"You alright Buck? You didn’t need to invite us if you’re not feelin’ great.”

Bucky blushes and shakes his head. They’ve been here less than a minute and Steve’s already worrying. Typical.

“I’m fine Stevie. Relax. S’just a cold.”

Steve drops it but still looks like he’s on guard. He cold give Casper a run for his money.

“I can make tea, if you’d like,” Nat offers up, running a smooth hand down Bucky’s cheek. “ _Вы должны заботиться о себе_.”

Bucky sighs and gives her a look but doesn’t say anything else as she moves around the kitchen with familiar ease. Sam wraps an arm around his boyfriend and moves them and Steve into the living room where Pirates of the Caribbean is playing. They all three sit on the large L shaped couch in the middle of the room, and Bucky allows himself to feel just a little run down and unwell. He sniffles softly and laughs when Casper comes and drapes himself across Steve’s lap. They’ve been thick as thieves ever since Bucky adopted the little pup.

By the time the tea’s steeped and ready, along with three beers, the pizza is being delivered. Nat and Bucky are on the couch while Steve gets out plates and Sam pays the young guy.

“I know I haven’t really addressed it, but I’m glad he’s got you...and you’ve got him,” Steve says, looking a little lost in his feels and emotional as they divvy out the slices. Sam smiles and ruffles Steve’s hair. “Alright, alright. Don’t get too sappy on my Rogers,” the vet says, but he takes the words to heart.

They walk back to where Nat and Bucky are sitting and make themselves comfortable again, Steve sitting pretty close to Natasha. After a while, Bucky, with pizza in his mouth, decides to go for it.

“So uh….are you two, you know…” he trails off before getting a gleam in his eye. He recalls what Tony had told him a while ago. “Do you two _fondue_?”

Steve looks like he wants to die right there, and Natasha laughs, full and unguarded.

“Yeah, we fondue alright, _don’t_ we soldier?” She grins slyly at Steve who finally has composed himself.

“Yeah, we’ve...we’re uh...we’re dating.”

Sam whoops and hollers.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us man?! How long?”

Steve shrugs. “It just happened, maybe like...three weeks ago?” Nat nods and Sam smiles.

“We’re happy for you both. Thank god you finally got the balls and did something about it,” Bucky smirks over his pizza. Steve blushes again and shoves pizza in his mouth.

 -----------------

“Ugh, this is so _not_ sexy,” Bucky mumbles, coughing again into the tissue that’s in his hand. They’re on the couch and Sam laughs at the man’s half lucid state. They’d been up all night thanks to the congestion and cough that had taken a hold of Bucky. Sam’s worried too of course, but he’d doped his boyfriend up on cold meds and the result was him half muttering about illness not being sexy for about fifteen minutes.

Sam runs a hand through his guys hair and presses a kiss to his warm cheek.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll always think you’re sexy.”

Bucky looks at him, eyes half lidded, and shakes his head.

“Your ma’s right Sam. You’re a weird one,” he mumbles, pulling the blanket closer to him as he drops his head onto Sam’s shoulder.

The better half of the day is spent watching tv and making sure Bucky drinks water and blows his damn nose instead of sniffling every few seconds. Bucky’s stubborn but finally relents and even allows Sam to take his temp. He shivers as Sam holds the instrument under his tongue.

“You feel pretty shitty huh?” Sam asks once the thermometer has beeped, alerting him that Bucky’s running a 100.8 degree fever. Buck looks up, face pale and cheeks flushed and finally nods, swallowing and wincing.

“Throat hurts too?”

Another nod.

“Alright big guy, let’s get you in bed.”

\--------------------

The next few days are a haze of illness on both mens accounts. Sam can’t say he’s surprised. He’s kissed Bucky enough to know that the germs that had taken his boyfriend hostage would also invade him. The only problem is that because of Bucky’s immune system being so shitty from cryo, the older man is still sick even when Sam’s starting to feel better. Of course, Bucky’s not going to let Sam know this, or at least not let on to just how sick he still feels.

Bucky’s pulling his jacket on when Sam comes padding down the hallway, a frown on his face.

“Where’re you going?” His voice is still hoarse from his sore throat and coughing and still congested. Bucky looks up and bites his lip.

“We need more tissues and tea and soup. Was gonna go out real quick and grab it,” he explains, coughing as softly as he can manage.

Sam, still a little too pale for Bucky’s liking, moves closer and lets his hand fall against Bucky’s forehead.

“Babe…” he murmurs, feeling the warmth still under his skin. Bucky moves off and gives him a small smile.

“Someone’s gotta do it, and Nat and Steve are off fighting some asshole in New Jersey. I’ll be quick and you can pick what movie we watch when I get back.”

“You’re real lucky I love you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and kisses Sam gently, breaking off only to cough into his sleeve.

“Yeah yeah, love you too angel.”


End file.
